His Name, Her Lips
by Dear-Green-Alba
Summary: First attempt at fanfiction, any feedback is greatly appreciated. Around 4/5 chapters. Post 2.18. Will Lizzie let her anger towards Red stop her from being there when he needs her most?
1. His Name, Her Lips

**His Name, Her Lips.**

This is my first attempt at fanfiction, ever. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, seriously. If it's shit then please let me know.

I own nothing.

_Song inspiration: Streets by Olafur Arnalds and End Credits by Chase &amp; Status_

Everything happened so fast, all in a blur; and yet time seemed to slow.

He said her name, "Lizzie" pleading, begging for her to just give him a chance to explain. His attempt was futile, he turned to leave and then it came. He didn't hear it but he sure as hell felt it. Weightless, he crumbled to the hard and cold ground. He couldn't catch a breath, it felt like his chest was being crushed by an enormous weight - too much for him to handle. Suddenly he was moving as Dembe dragged along the road and that is when the pain truly hit him, searing through his right side. She appeared then at his side, he could hear her, feel her presence. He was blinded- luckily unable to open his eyes to see the concern and anguish across the faces of those who cared most about this flawed man; this 'monster'.

Once the shots stopped they grabbed him and rushed to the relative safety of the car. She jumped in beside him, kneeling on the floor of the Mercedes. Her scarf was now crimson she noticed as she pushed down on his chest as hard as her shaking hands could muster.

"Where are you going? We need to get him hospital or he's going to bleed out" she screamed to Dembe, she got no reply as he was busy trying to concentrate on the road and dial the number he knew by heart for situations such as this. Finally, she picked up. "Mr Kaplan, we have a code zero. GSW to the chest, right side. We are en route to the containment unit, send the team immediately." He tried his hardest to appear calm for both Lizzie's sake and Red's - if he could hear them - yet his voice betrayed him, trembling as he described the situation.

She didn't speak a word to Red, she couldn't decide whether to scream at him in anger or plead with him just to hold on. Instead she studied his features, voiced her deepest fears and wishes in her head. He was unconscious now, limp and pale and unaware of his surroundings. She kept her free hand at his neck, his weak pulse reassuring her that all hope was not lost.

The journey took around twenty minutes yet it simultaneously felt like a minute and and an hour. Men she had never set eyes on before teared open the car door and hauled him out onto a waiting stretcher. She clamoured out, rushing to his side and still holding that once cream scarf to his wound. As they entered she noticed Mr Kaplan frozen still and in that moment he was whisked into a makeshift medical room, leaving her to stand and watch. It was then that she noted her hands. Stained. Tattooed in red - Red's blood. Mr Kaplan appeared at her side then, grabbing her wrist and attempting to bring her out of her shocked state. Mr Kaplan had seen this unfold before, Lizzie was sure of it, yet she understood that it didn't matter how many times this group had been exposed to the grave situations Red managed to get himself involved in; they still felt concerned. After all, how many lives can one man have?

"Go to him Lizzie, he needs to hear your voice" Mr Kaplan whispered soothingly. Lizzie cautiously entered the area, half a dozen men and women in scrubs surrounding her - what? What was he to her? Surely CI wasn't an accurate enough description? No, he was so much more than that. She squeezed in at his left side, one hand grasping his upper arm.

"Redding..." her voice came to a halt. A moment passed, she swallowed her emotion as best she could.

"Raymond" she pleaded, her face near his own.

Suddenly, for the first time since she left him standing there in street, he looked her in the eye. His eyelids fluttered before finally opening, albeit rather reluctantly. Unfocused and unquestionably against his body's wishes, he stared deep into her eyes; studying them like it was the last thing he would ever see on this earth. It began to feel as though it were just the two of them here, in this makeshift room. She said it over and over and over without even thinking.

"Raymond."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. A declaration of will, of concern, of love.

"Please... Just... Hold on. Just hold on, for me. I can't lose you. You're all I have left."

He almost forgot about the pain, he had a moment of relief as her words sank in to his heart. That was until the flood came rising up his throat, drowning him from the inside. He knew he was bleeding internally, he could taste the copper in his mouth ever since he felt the impact of the bullet now lodged in his chest. However this was different; this he knew was too much for his battered body to handle. He tried to speak, tried to tell her everything. What he felt, thought and understood about her. He tried to tell her the truth, the whole truth. She saw him sputtering, as if trying to communicate something, anything to her. The blood now flowing like a river out of his mouth.

And then, nothing. She saw the light leave his eyes, the look of calm take over his face. Time stopped. Everything was silent, unable to hear herself screaming in anguish.

She felt herself being dragged away from Red's side, unwillingly.

He can't be gone, he can't leave her like this. The moment she realised how she truly felt about him is the moment she believes she lost him.

If only she had listened to his explanation about Tom. If only she had given him the fulcrum when he asked. If only his name had came from her lips earlier than minutes before his last breaths.

If only.


	2. This House is a Home

**This House is a Home.**

I want to thank you all so much for your words of encouragement! I've read the blacklist fanfiction since I watched the pilot almost two years ago and only now thought I would give it a try. I hope this lives up to the first chapter and I hope you stay reading. Again, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

_Song inspiration: Heelah Dancing by Keaton Henson and Welcome Home (Reprise) by Radical Face_

She stepped towards the building, twirling the set of of keys Dembe had presented her with earlier. Cautiously she entered, climbed the stairs and approached the door at the top, on the left, as instructed. She paused for minute before she inserted the key into the lock, unsure if she was ready yet to be exposed to the 'other side' of Red so soon after what had unfolded mere hours ago.

It was unlike anywhere she had ever known Red to accommodate; understated and comfortable. A home.

She slowly crept down the hall, drinking in the many pictures and tokens that adorned the walls of the hallway and exposed a life well lived - a life well loved. She could smell him; that familiar soothing smell of poignant aftershave mixed with cigar smoke that often followed him wherever he had went.

As she gingerly entered the sitting room, she began to feel tears sting her eyes again. Piles of books lined the walls; all of which looked well worn, baseball and track sports trophies sat on a rather dusty shelf; dated between the years 1975 and 1978 - the thought that she had never viewed him as athletic or interested in sports crossed her mind and caused a dull ache in her chest. If only she had asked him what truly interested him, what his strengths were, his hobbies. She took a seat on the large leather sofa and allowed herself to soak in her surroundings.

He was here.

He was all around her in this tiny nondescript flat. She finally understood why Dembe and Mr Kaplan insisted she make this journey despite the chaos and uncertainty surrounding them all. Something on the fireplace caught her eye, causing her to leave the comfort of the vintage sofa - a picture that seemed to hold so much familiarity. She stared at the frame not fully understanding what this all meant, if anything.

It was her and Sam, sitting by a lake she knew as the place not far from her childhood home. He was showing her how to fish, steadying her hands on the rod; deep concentration shown across her face, and pride clearly radiating from his.

She picked it up to observe it even closer and noticed it concealed another photo behind its frame, this one was much older. Two young men smiling, laughing, each with an arm around one another's shoulders.

Red and Sam.

They both looked so happy, so healthy, so young. Their whole lives ahead of them, the world ready for the taking. She chuckled a little at the sight of Red's hair; blond and bushy was the only way to describe it and so different from what she imagined he would look like at that age.

She put the frame of her and Sam back in its place but kept this one of the two men firmly in her hand as she went to explore the rest of the home - his home.

The kitchen contained more herbs and spices than she even knew existed. Cookbooks in various languages rested atop the refrigerator - she knew he had an adventurous taste when it came to food but she had never pondered until now that he enjoyed not only eating worldly foods, but preparing them himself. She could see it now; see him pottering around the kitchen, adding handfuls of strange ingredients as he hummed a tune to himself. Smiling. Content.

She felt her heart constrict, could feel her emotions rising to the surface yet again. She quickly exited the kitchen and continued down the hallway to the double doors that caught her eye when she first entered his flat. She entered his bedroom gingerly, feeling like she was betraying him by prying in such a private area. This is where the great Raymond Reddington is brought down to the same level as everyone else in the world - where the enigma that is the concierge of crime becomes as vulnerable as the next man. This is where his guard is down and his true self exposed.

If she has surmised anything from this visit, it is that nothing was more essential to Red than a good book. A wall of wooden bookcases adorns the left side of the room; again all well worn. She rakes her eyes over the shelfs, trying to determine his favourite genre, his favourite author, his favourite novel.

She moves to the door on the other side of the room, opening it to reveal a tidy area of well arranged hats, shoes, shirts and suits. She runs her hand through the various materials before grabbing one rather wrinkled looking white shirt. She wanders over to the bed and without a second thought she lays down on her side still clutching onto his shirt and the photo. Bringing the shirt to her face she breathes in his scent and feels the material ghosting over her features.

It still feels unreal, almost unbelievable the chaos that has entered her life today - unlike anything she has faced in the last few years. Finally she allows her repressed feelings to surface; tears streaming down her face, sobs wracking her body. It seems like hours before she regains control of her mind and her body. She feels exhaustion take over as she curls her arms even tighter around the material of his clothing. She dreams of him - of everything she would say, everything she would do to prove how much she truly cared about him. The reason she was sent here is long forgotten as her mind is clogged with memories of him, images of his face and most hauntingly of all, the sound of his laughter.

Several hours later she jumps up as her phone rings out, echoing around the room. She reaches into her pocket, her heart pounding from waking with such a start.

"Keen" she barks.

"Agent Keen, what is taking so long? You need to come back as soon as possible, there's been a development." Dembe's voice cried with urgency.

She stayed silent, oblivious to the fact that she was holding her breathe as she waited for him to elaborate. However, shuffling could be heard on the other end of the line before Mr Kaplan's voice came rushing down her handset, both fear and hope evident in her tone.

"Liz? He made it through surgery. He has a chance...a chance of survival. The team said they need his condition to remain stable in the next 24 hours or his heart won't be able to cope with the strain. Liz, my dear, he needs you now. I know you are angry and confused but trust me, it will all make sense in the end. You need to come back here with the box, and you need watch over Raymond. If I am certain of one thing dearie, it is that he won't survive without you; without you at his side. Please come back as soon as you can."


	3. The Other Side

**The Other Side**

_Thanks so much for all the feedback on this, I really appreciate it! Sorry for the late update, between starting a new job and seeing a midnight screening of age of ultron on my only day off I've been pretty busy! Hope you enjoy this chapter._

She entered the factory doubling for a hospital wing and saw Dembe standing, gazing into to makeshift room where Red lay.

"Hey, you okay?" She inquired softly.

"Elizabeth, thank you for coming back." He paused, trying to find the right words to say that would accurately describe how he felt in this moment. "It doesn't get any easier. This. We've had to enact this protocol a handful of times, every time it seems like this will be the last."

She saw the pain and anguish on his face, he really loves this man. Brothers until the end.

"I know you don't think he is a good man Elizabeth, I know he hurts you but you must believe me when I say that this man is not who you think he is, he is not what his actions suggest. In time you will come to realise that, I wish I could explain but it is Red's place to tell you the truth...the whole truth."

"So, what happens if he doesn't make it? Will I just be left with nothing? No answers to my own life? No protection?" Her voice rose slightly.

"Do not be silly Elizabeth. You know him well enough to understand he has a plan b for every event. You will get answers with or without him. You will be protected with or without him. The question is do you wish to be with or without him?"

She let his words soak into her head, her heart. What did she truly want? She could leave right now and dedicate herself to solitarily finding the answers she needed, leave this all behind and start over. But, Red. He needed her, and she needed him more than she could ever say.

She wandered over into the makeshift room to see him. Mr Kaplan gave her a small smile and a pat on the shoulder before she left them alone. Liz stood for a minute, her eyes transfixed on Red's still frame. He looked so innocent, like a child. She took a seat beside his bed, pulling the chair as close as possible, and reached out for his hand. She hesitated for a second before finally taking hold of his clammy palm.

"You gave us all a fright today, you know that? I'm so angry at you, you son of a bitch. I can never forgive you for what you've done to me...and yet, here I am. Because I care." She stutters and her voice cracks as she continues "Because I love you. So you better wake up, and soon. Everything I valued most in my life I have lost, I'm not about to let you go too."

She felt exhaustion hit her again, a wave of tiredness washed over her as she lay her head on his bed between his hip and his hand and drifted off to sleep.

She awoke with a start to the sound of choking. Red. She jumped out of the chair to get help but stopped in her tracks when she saw him. He was awake, his eyes burning into her soul, saying so much without saying a word. The nurse rushed in trying to soothe him as she prepared to take the intrusive tube out. His eyes did not move from her face, even as he grimaced his way through the process. Coughing and spluttering due to the removal of the tube only caused a more searing pain to rip through his chest.

"Shhhh, it's okay. You're alright, just take deep breaths." she stroked his head as a comfort to him, and to her. He was still here, he was still breathing.

"L-Lizz..." He tried to speak, to tell her everything she ought to know but his voice failed him, so he lifted his shaking arm to her cheek hoping she would understand. The feel of his fingertips was all it required for her emotions to come flooding back. She lay her head on his chest as the tears began to fall and he silently hugged her to him as best he could.

He needs to tell her everything, he wants to tell her everything, and the truth will come out as soon as he can find his voice.

But for now, they rest.


End file.
